


The Tortoise Sage

by zuotian



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blood and Injury, Character Study, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Light Angst, M/M, Maito Gai-centric, Pre-Canon, Spirit World, Summons & Summoning Meta, Trials, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuotian/pseuds/zuotian
Summary: Gai desperately bids for an ANBU promotion which the Sandaime rejects. Dejected, disillusioned, and pushed away by his best friend and eternal rival, Gai leaves for a brief sabbatical in Konoha's forests, where he encounters a talking tortoise who promises him training beyond anything Gai has experienced before. Gai accepts the tortoise's offer - unaware that it will lead him to a spiritual realm of great trials.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i am very excited to unveil my latest project. this will be my first serious multi-chaptered fic. i've already got almost 4 chapters written. updates will be weekly, unless i get extra writing time and can speed things up a bit. 
> 
> i've always been curious about gai's summons and wished there was more information on them. so, i'm making it up myself. i'm playing fast and loose with canon material regarding summons, for reasons which you will see later in the story. i've done a lot of research on japanese/buddhist folklore and culture for this fic which i will elaborate upon as the story progresses. 
> 
> though kakagai is endgame and kakashi will be featured eventually, this story primarily focuses on gai.

Even Gai had his limitations, though he was not fond of admitting them. Physical limits were easily surmountable with enough determination, but personal limits could not be defeated through sheer power of will. Gai became all too aware of this fact after his ANBU rejection. To him, the matter had been a simple one - get on his knees and put his life on the line in order to follow Kakashi into the dark abyss of special ops. Gai wanted nothing more than to bring Kakashi back from the proverbial edge. If Kakashi would not meet him halfway, then Gai would join him in the darkness instead. 

 

But Gai was not expecting his humiliating rejection. After years of hard work he still wasn’t Kakashi’s equal. There couldn’t be any other reason why the Sandaime would deny him a promotion. 

 

Ashamed, Gai quickly abdicated the Hokage’s quarters. Asuma and Kurenai spotted him hurrying through the village but he brushed off their concerned queries. He wasn’t in the mood. There was only one person he wished to see, but he’d run out of favor with his esteemed rival. That had to be it. Kakashi was only humoring him all these years and had finally lost his patience. 

 

Gai remedied the situation the only way he knew how: with vigorous, near-suicidal training. He went home, packed a bag, and journeyed to the forests around Konoha. He wasn’t slated for any impending missions, so he planned on staying out for the weekend at least. No one would miss him anyway, especially not Kakashi. If he no longer appreciated Gai’s presence, Gai’s absence wouldn’t bother him. 

 

That was what Gai told himself as he climbed the sloping hills thickening with trees. In reality, Gai had no idea what was going through Kakashi’s mind these days. Kakashi aborted any attempts at conversation, citing his newfound non-disclosure agreement with the ANBU, but Gai knew it was of Kakashi’s own prerogative that he closed himself off, not the village’s. Regardless, Gai couldn’t do anything about. If Kakashi didn’t want to talk no amount of beguiling would open him up. 

 

Gai pressed further into the forest as the hills steepened. Konoha’s surrounding geography was truly marvelous, and its diversity offered a wide range of training possibilities. Gai stopped at the hillcrest to assuage his options. The altitude increased to the east and west, while the hills dropped off into forested plains to the north. Gai decided to proceed in a clockwise motion and set off, leaving the village south behind him. 

 

He climbed up an unrelenting cliff face which offered little purchase. If the cliff featured more outcroppings Gai could’ve completed the climb in no time. As it was, he found barely any leverage, forcing him to stop often to look for footholds. Holding himself close to the cliff face with an insubstantial grip made his limbs shake and his fingers burn with effort. He eventually wielded a kunai in either hand and, utilizing considerable strength, stabbed the blades into the rock, then pulled himself up by the handles. The weight tension caused the rock to fracture and, at several times, Gai worried the stone would crumble and he’d fall to his death. This heightened his adrenaline, which increased his stamina. Ready to finish his task, he forewent retrieving his kunai and simply left them discarded in the rock, replacing each blade with another from his pack. 

 

This allowed him to quicken his pace tenfold, and soon the cliff’s summit loomed within reach. Gai scrabbled for the edge and hauled himself over the plateau, landing flat on his back. He laid for but a second, then jumped up into a series of katas. If he paused any longer his body would crumple into a restful state which was the last thing he wanted. His limbs protested his ministrations, but he guided his body through the exercises and it dutifully responded - eventually, the fire plaguing his muscles subsided to numbness.

 

Gai didn’t stop until the sun reached its midday apex, when he measured the remaining daylight with his hand. Since he was in nature he used its natural schedule to apportion his self-appointed challenges. If he scaled back down the cliff now, he could make it to the ground with enough time to set up camp in the plains before dusk. 

 

After taking a small swig of water, Gai lowered himself over the edge of the cliff. His face reddened with effort as he stretched his legs to reach the uppermost embedded kunai. Carefully resting his weight on the kunai, he attempted to crouch low enough so he could grab the blades with his hands and drop his feet simultaneously - but one of the blades snapped in half, and he lost his footing and tumbled through the air. 

 

The slate color of the rock swirled with the emerald forest and blue sky as he somersaulted. But Gai was a shinobi - a jounin - so he did not panic. Channeling his scant amount of chakra into his extremities, he fought against the powerful wind and slapped the cliff surface. His chakra glued to the stone like he knew it would, but it took awhile for his momentum to settle and he continued to slide. His palms were gouged with deep gashes and he lost a sandal until, finally, he slowed to a stop a few meters above the ground. 

 

Gai pressed his forehead into the cliff and took several deep breaths. “Pain!” he shouted to no one, his voice reverberating off the expanse of stone. “I am the master of pain!” 

 

Pain certainly erupted over his hands, but he had no time to examine his wounds. There weren’t any kunai left at his disposal and there was nowhere for him to stop to dress his bleeding palms. If he climbed anymore debris could get stuck underneath his skin and he’d develop an infection.

 

Gai closed his eyes. If he were able to stretch his legs, his toes would brush the forest canopy. It wasn’t that far of a fall. 

 

He pushed off the cliff face and wrapped himself in chakra, protecting his joints and vital organs. He willed himself to turn around, stomach-down, so if he encountered a thick branch it would not break his spine. Luckily, the trees he fell into were spindly and juvenile. Errant branches tore his jumpsuit as he crashed through the treetops. 

 

Gai flung his arm out and grasped the tree trunk. His shoulder recoiled sharply and his hand bleed fresh bouts of blood, but he successfully slowed down. He proceeded to let go of the tree trunk and plummeted through the remaining distance of air. 

 

The impact knocked the air out of his lungs. He lifted his head and spat out a mouthful of dirt, then sat up to catalogue any injuries. There was nothing major - no broken bones, no ruptured organs - but he most likely pulled his shoulder, and his hands were a mess of blood, skin, and exposed muscle. 

 

Gai glared at the surrounding forest. “Damn you, Kakashi!”

 

His Rival was nowhere in sight, but this excursion, like basically everything else Gai did, was done in his name - so Gai thought it appropriate to blame him. He took off his remaining shoe and chucked it away. Proceeding barefoot would build up the calluses on his feet and strengthen his ankles.

 

He needed to start hiking. If he traveled to the low plains he’d surely find a source of water to camp beside. Before embarking, he painstakingly removed all the bits of rock and poured clotting powder into his wounds, then wrapped his hands in bandages. Blood seeped through the fabric immediately - it’d take time for the powder to take effect. He’d have to wait to redress them until he built shelter. 

 

Gai stretched the soreness from his limbs and got to his feet, swaying slightly. He shook his head to clear the vestiges of vertigo, then appraised the untrodden path before him. Up on the plateau he’d visually traced a route to the plains. Hoping his memory served him right, he began walking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to stay a couple chapters ahead of myself here. just finished up with some semester projects, so now the only thing impeding me will be exams coming up in a few weeks, but if i stay on top of everything i should be fine. fingers crossed.

Gai picked across the forest valley at a steady pace. The rocky topography transitioned into tall grass and the trees lengthened in height. This sieved some of the heat and cooled his sweat-drenched body, but without clear view of the sun he could not keep track of his direction or the time left in the day. 

 

Still, the sunlight slaking through the leaves proffered a tranquil atmosphere. Gai walked softly, enjoying the forest’s subtle ecosystem. The dirt softened underfoot, cool and gentle on his worn soles. He plucked edible berries and muched at leisure, pausing at times to allow skittish animals across his path, or to appreciate a particular sight. The further he traveled the more distance he put between himself, the village, and Kakashi.  

 

He stopped to rest against an elderly tree. His climb up the cliff and fall thereafter took more out of him than he liked to admit. His hands throbbed with unceasing pain, bandages stained red and sticky. He took an extra minute to go over his supplies, though it was just an excuse for another moment of rest. 

 

Gai had intended to go all out - it’d been so long since he used his naturalist skills, a rudimentary camping trip sounded like a good idea. He brought only the essentials: basic shinobi weapons, a hunting knife, a canteen, a cooking kit, water purifying tablets, matches, an extra set of clothes, a blanket, and a simple first aid kit. A tent was not included. He assumed he would be able to build shelter easily enough, but hadn’t predicted getting injured. He also underestimated how distraught he was over the situation with Kakashi. Thoughts of his rival plagued his mind. He felt moody and out of sorts - completely opposite from his usual cheery disposition. The lack of exuberance had slowed his movements. 

 

Newly resolute, Gai packed his things and resumed walking. He would not brood any longer. Kakashi was the one who brooded. Gai did not want to succumb to his Rival’s poor habits. He would persevere through any pain, physical or mental. It didn’t matter to him, because in the end it was all the same. 

 

He wound through the forest, unsure of where he was going. The ground slowly declined, so at least he was headed in the right direction. The sun continued to filter in through the trees. Once its rays were parallel with the ground Gai knew he was short on time. He stilled to reorient himself, to figure out where to go next. 

 

“Aha!” 

 

His voice echoed in the silent forest, out of place amongst the wordless animals and plants. 

He turned to the left and stepped through a copse of bushery toward the faint sound of trickling water, and discovered a burbling creek. Gai smiled, pleased with himself, and followed its route. 

 

The creek careened over a short waterfall then widened into a shallow river. The water only came up to his ankles. Gai dropped his pack on the riverbed and squatted. He’d need to move further down the river to find a secure campsite, but he thought he deserved a moment’s rest to celebrate his phenomenal survival skills. 

 

Small fish darted over smooth pebbles, distorting concentric circles in their wake. Gai looked at his hands - they were too dirty, still leaking blood, and he did not want to ruin his bandages anymore than they already were. He leaned back on his elbows and lifted his bare feet. This would be a great test of agility! 

 

He striked the water with his foot. The resulting splash echoed loudly and sent the fish scurrying away. Gai frowned and increased his efforts. He waited until the fish coalesced into schools again, then hovered his foot over the surface of the water with more care until - 

 

“Yes!” Gai cheered, brandishing a fish between his toes. He dropped it beside him on the riverbed, where it would flop until slowly asphyxiating. “I am sorry, my fishy friend,” he said, “but it is your unlucky day.” 

 

Gai caught several more fish in this manner then wrapped them up in a spare section of cloth and continued onward. Tied to the side of his pack, his bundle of dinner wiggled incessantly but eventually quieted once all the fish had died. 

 

The forest darkened to amber as the sun began to set, and Gai began scouring the riverside for a suitable embankment to make camp. He found a clear thatch of land high up off the water where thinning trees would give him a great view of the night sky. 

 

A great thrashing sounded down the river just as he finished checking the embankment perimeter. Gai frowned, looking toward the direction of the noise. When it repeated, he tightened the straps of his pack and went to investigate. 

 

The current picked up at a fork in the river and a dead branch bent over the rushing waters like an arm extended. A wild cat crouched on the branch as if ready to attack. Beneath the cat Gai saw a large turtle whose shell was caught under the branch. Head stretched above the coursing water, the turtle futilely beat its legs in an attempt to escape imminent death. 

 

“Hey!” Gai yelled at the cat, unconcerned that it was a wild animal. He scampered down the river bank and waved his arms. “Get away from him!” 

 

The cat turned its narrowed gaze onto Gai. Gai retrieved his hunting knife and readied himself in a defensive stance. 

 

“Come here, kitty,” he encouraged. The cat cocked its head, tail flickering. “That’s right… Away from the defenseless turtle…” 

 

With an epic yowl, the cat forgot its previous prey and launched at its newest bounty. Gai thrust his knife upward into the cat’s stomach. The animal hissed and clawed at him with its giant paws. Gai evaded as best he could and secured his other hand around the cat’s neck, then pinned it to the ground. Disemboweled, the cat had no chance of survival, so Gai swiftly slit its throat in an act of mercy. 

 

Breathing heavily, he straightened and wiped the gore off of his blade. Fresh cuts bled across his chest. He touched them with distaste and remembered the turtle.

 

“Worry not,” Gai called to the turtle, which continued to struggle against the current. At the risk of reopening the wounds on his palms, Gai gripped the tree branch in either hand. His cheeks puffed with effort as he slowly lifted the wood off of the turtle’s shell. 

 

The reptile swam free and climbed up the riverbank, presumably off to its home. Gai dropped the branch with a relieved sigh. His hands bled anew along with his chest. Already mentally going through the first aid he’d have to perform, he turned around to head back to his campsite when a voice behind him caused him to freeze. 

 

“Thanks, kid.” 

 

Gai blinked. He pivoted. The turtle stood at his feet. 

 

“Excuse me?” he asked - even though there was no way it was the turtle who had just spoken. Out of the water, Gai could clearly see its red body and yellow-accented shell. He also noticed the turtle wasn’t simply large - it was abnormally massive, a hulking beast. 

 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” the turtle continued. “I could’ve gotten out of it - but you really saved me from a big hassle back there.” 

 

Gai rubbed his eyes. Maybe he needed to go back to the village. He must’ve hit his head falling from the cliff. “You are a talking turtle,” he said. 

 

The turtle stomped its foot. “No! I’m a  _ tortoise _ .” 

 

“A talking tortoise,” Gai rectified. Like that explained everything. 

 

“I’ve been watching you,” the tortoise informed. 

 

Gai took a slow step backward. “Right. Well, I must be going now - “ 

 

“Hold it!” Exhibiting speed unbefitting of his kind, the tortoise flashed in front of Gai to block his escape. Alarmed, Gai fell onto his rear. The tortoise towered over him, its beady eyes locking him in place. “What’s your name, kid?”

 

Mouth agape, Gai floundered, unable to process what was happening. The tortoise stomped its foot again and he was spurred to speaking. “Gai! Maito Gai,” he answered. He furrowed his brow, examining the strange yellow markings on the tortoise’s shell. This wasn’t an ordinary animal - it appeared otherworldly. Gai swallowed, disconcerted. “What are you?” he asked. 

 

The tortoise smirked. “I’m Ningame.”   
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a longer chapter. ningame gets to know gai. gai gets confused. 
> 
> one more chapter left until they are in Turtle Land. i'm also working on some more trans gai fics in between these chapters.

The talking tortoise, Ningame, chortled a raspy laugh at Gai’s baffled state. “Oh, boy, you should see the look on your face!” 

 

Gai schooled himself but couldn’t help scowling. He did not want to instigate the beast, who hadn’t yet granted room for him to stand, but didn’t appreciate humiliation; he’d suffered enough of it as a child and would not tolerate it as an adult. Instead of rising to his feet, he merely lifted his chin. “You are a very rude tortoise.”

 

Ningame shook his head. “If you only knew…” 

 

“Knew what?” Gai asked, his offense falling away to intrigue. Ningame must be a spirit with omnipresent knowledge of some kind. Gai bowed his head, worried his behavior would incur wrath. “I apologize for my remark, Ningame-sama.” 

 

The tortoise laughed again. “Ningame-sama! I like the sound of that. But you can just call me Ningame, kid. I’m not at a high enough rank for any title. If you understand what I mean.” 

 

Gai’s expression soured as he remembered his own failed promotion. “I do indeed.”

 

“Eh?” Ningame’s scaly brow rose. “You have a bone to pick with somebody?” 

 

“In a way,” Gai said at length. He did not want to divulge his deteriorating rivalry and left it at that. “You said you were following me,” he prompted. 

 

Ningame hummed but didn’t reply. Moving at a pace similar to his earthly brethren, he started foraging the low-hanging plants along the riverbank. 

 

Gai watched Ningame clip leaves with his beak and reminded himself that he needed utmost patience dealing with spirits. He knew they were mercurial beings with underhanded motives, not often sighted, let alone conversed with. There was a reason this was happening. Gai was privileged to partake in such a clandestine encounter. 

 

Nonetheless, he was fatigued and in pain. He’d been looking forward to setting up camp and relaxing for the night. Ningame’s shocking ability to speak only sent his brain spinning further - coupled with the uncouth reminder of his conflict with Kakashi, a weariness set into his bones. 

 

“Ningame,” he said, standing with his hands on his hips. “Perhaps we could continue this conversation elsewhere. I am wounded and need to eat.” 

 

The tortoise stretched its neck to a considerable height and squared Gai with a searching glare. Gai was not intimidated and returned the gaze unaffected. 

 

Ningame broke into a grin. “I like you, kid.” 

 

“Uh - ” Gai reddened, confused at the praise. “Thank you?” 

 

“Well, then.” Ningame bumped Gai’s shin. “Let’s go.” 

 

Gai lead Ningame down the riverbank. He frequently glanced over his shoulder to check on the tortoise, who looked back at him with amusement. Gai had a sneaking suspicion that the wild cat he killed had posed no threat to Ningame whatsoever and this was all, in fact, a giant set up, but didn’t voice his accusation.

 

They arrived at the embankment in short time. Gai dropped his pack and sat down while Ningame poked around. 

 

“I thought humans dwelled in buildings,” Ningame said.

 

“We do.” Gai shuffled to the edge of the embankment and started removing the bandages from his hands. They clung to his wounds, sticky and frayed. He swallowed a gasp of pain and continued speaking. “But we are far from the village right now. There aren’t any humans out here.” 

 

“I see.” Ningame laid down at Gai’s side and peered over the embankment. “Do you live here?” 

 

“No, I do not.” 

 

“What are you hiding from, then? Are you on the run?” 

 

Gai sent Ningame an irritated look. “I don’t run from anything.” He dunked his hands in the river; the cool water assuaged his pain and washed away clinging sweat or debris. “I’m simply...taking a break.”

 

“A break from what?” 

 

Gai averted his eyes and stared at his glowering reflection. “My problems.” 

 

Ningame’s reflection turned toward Gai’s own. “Isn’t that running?” 

 

“No. I am training. I need to get stronger. Strong enough to…” Gai trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to accomplish when he returned to Konoha. 

 

As tactless and nosy as he was, Ningame let the matter drop. “Must be some training,” he said instead of commenting on Gai’s cryptic silence, “with how you fell off that cliff.” 

 

“You saw that?” Gai asked, unsurprised. The spirit animal seemed to know a lot about him already. 

 

Ningame nodded. “Yes.” His voice lost its sardonic tilt and he seemed genuine when he said, “You are very tenacious. It is admirable.” 

 

“Tenacity,” Gai scoffed. He lifted his hands from the water and turned to bend over his pack. “Most people consider me foolhardy and compulsive where I am from.” 

 

“And where is that?” Ningame asked.

 

Gai laid a fresh roll of bandages on his knee. “Konohagakure. Have you heard of it?” 

 

“Sure, I’ve heard of Konohagakure.”

 

Gai looked up at Ningame’s irked tone. “And what is your opinion?” 

 

“Varied,” Ningame said. 

 

His miffed expression implied no further questions would be answered, so Gai didn’t ask anything else and finished rewrapping his hands. “It is a beautiful village. The strongest in the world.” 

 

“But?” 

 

“But strength comes with sacrifice.”

 

Ningame gave him that all-knowing stare once more. “And what have you sacrificed?” 

 

Gai’s hands clenched into fists. “More than I thought I would.”

 

“What did you think would happen?” 

 

“I would give everything for my country,” Gai vowed. “But I didn’t expect to lose everything, too.” 

 

Perhaps that was his problem with Kakashi. Gai built himself up into the man he was today and had nothing to lose in his pursuit of strength. Kakashi on the other hand, with his inborn talent and family name, had everything to lose - his father, his team, his sensei. Gai assumed Kakashi must’ve agreed to the ANBU position immediately despite its personal ramifications, so accustomed to bereavement as he was. And now, for the first time in his life, Gai felt like he’d also been robbed by Konoha. But that would all be remedied once Gai joined Kakashi after proving his worth to the Sandaime; he knew if he was by Kakashi’s side everything would work out. It always had.

 

Gai shook himself from his musings. “But it doesn’t matter right now. The only thing I want to focus on is my training.” 

 

“You’re off to a great start,” Ningame remarked. 

 

“No thanks to you. That cat really did a number on me.” Gai smirked. “You didn’t need my help, did you?”

 

Ningame chose not to reply, so Gai proceeded cut his torn jumpsuit away with his hunting knife, dipped a shred of fabric in the river, and dabbed at the wounds on his chest. Not wanting to waste his lessening supply, he used a minimal amount of bandages to wrap his torso and hoped they wouldn’t be so messy to require another change any time soon. Then he stripped out of his jumpsuit entirely - immodest in front of the tortoise, though he assumed Ningame wouldn’t care - and changed into the plain, orange shirt and green trousers he’d packed just in case. 

 

His red hitai-ate had fallen into the grass. Gai held it in his hands for a moment. For reasons which he did not want to investigate, he stowed it away in his pack with a small amount of shame.

 

“You mentioned something about food earlier,” Ningame said once Gai finished resituating himself. 

 

“Ah, yes.” Glad to be distracted, Gai untied the bundle of dead fish from his pack with a flourish and the cloth spread on the ground unceremoniously. “I caught these earlier, but you probably already knew that.” 

 

Ningame inched forward and sniffed. “I cannot eat this.” 

 

Gai frowned. “Why? Is it not to your liking?” 

 

“I am a herbivore,” Ningame said flatly. “I have no teeth.” He opened his large mouth to demonstrate. 

 

Gai leaned down to inspect Ningame fleshy, toothless palate. “I see.” He rifled through another pocket of his pack and held the berries he’d picked earlier in the day out in his palm. “Will these do?” 

 

Ningame nosed the handful of fruit. “Are you always this generous?” 

 

“I try to be.” 

 

Ningame gobbled the berries. He smacked his lips, satisfied and impressed. “You are in my favor.”

 

Gai discreetly wiped Ningame’s saliva onto his pant leg. “I am well-versed in the methods of foraging,” he explained. “My father taught me how to survive in the wild when I was a child.” 

 

“He must be proud of you,” Ningame said. 

 

“I should like to think so,” Gai agreed, “but he is dead.” It was a long time ago. Dai’s passing wasn’t nearly as painful as it used to be. Still, Gai lowered his head as usually did when speaking of his father. “He was a very good man. Unappreciated by his peers.” 

 

“I can relate to that.” Ningame eyed Gai closely. “It sounds like you do too.” 

 

Gai sighed. “I thought I’d moved on from such inadequacy, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.” He observed the sky above them. It was turning dusk. Shadows began to stretch along the forest floor. “I need to make shelter before it gets too dark.”

 

Ningame stood. “I can help with that. You cook your fish.” 

 

Bemused, Gai began laying out his supplies as ordered. “What will you do?” 

 

“You’ll see,” Ningame said and walked away. 

 

Gai turned back to the task at hand. He was alone in uncharted territory. But this territory still belonged to Konoha. So far away from the usual traveling routes, Gai wasn’t concerned about any illicit characters spotting the smoke emanating from his camp. 

 

He gathered a random assortment of dry branches, set them aflame with a match, and popped up his portable cooking stand. As the pan heated, he skinned and filleted the small fish. It was a messy job with the hunting knife, which offered no finesse. Gai tried his best. 

 

Once the filets roasted to an even crisp Gai sat back and enjoyed his hardwon meal. It wasn’t tasteful - the meat was gritty, carrying a distinctly swampy flavor, and he picked out tiny bones between his teeth - but it was sustenance. 

 

Afterward, he bent over the river for a drink. The water ran quick and clear, so purifying tablets were unneeded. At least, Gai assumed so. He was also very tired and didn’t want to wait for the purification to take effect. He cupped a few handfuls of water and swallowed greedily. 

 

It’d been some time since he’d heard Ningame. Worried for his new friend, Gai sat up. The forest was cast in darkness - only the embankment was illuminated by the small cooking fire. 

 

“Ningame?” Gai called out.

 

A mound of earth exploded. Gai jumped back and nearly fell into the river.

 

But it was only the tortoise, whose head poked out above ground. 

 

“Here,” Ningame said. 

 

Gai crawled forward. “What are you doing?” 

 

“Burrowing,” Ningame replied. He vanished back underground only to climb out a few feet away. 

 

Gai approached. He blinked in surprise at the impressive holes Ningame had dug up. One was suited for the girth of a large tortoise. Its neighboring burrow was big enough to comfortably fit a grown man such as Gai. 

 

“That is amazing!” Gai said.

 

“I’ve got lots of tricks up my shell,” Ningame quipped, shaking the dirt off of his head. Gai laughed at the pun. “We do this all the time back home.” 

 

Gai looked up from investigating his burrow. “Home?” He realized Ningame knew much about him - his fall from the cliff, his reasons for being in the forest, the death of his father - but Gai didn’t know anything about Ningame at all. “Where are you from?” 

 

“Ah - crap,” Ningame huffed. “I’m from a place far away from here,” he carefully informed.

 

“Oh.” Gai broke down the cooking kit, then shoved his entire pack into his burrow. “What is it like?” he asked, halfway underground.

 

“You’ll see it soon enough,” Ningame said. “If you want to.” 

 

“What?” Gai quickly retracted from the burrow. “What do you mean?” 

 

“There’s a reason I’ve been watching you,” Ningame said. “You passed the test. Congratulations.” 

 

“A test?!” Gai scratched his head. “What were you testing me on?” 

 

“It’s unimportant. Just go to bed.” Ningame yawned, turning away. “We’ll talk more in the morning.” 

 

Gai humphed, but did not press further. “If you say so…” 

 

Ningame crawled into his burrow to sleep. Gai mirrored the tortoise’s movements. His own burrow was compact but large enough for him to stretch his legs. He extracted his blanket from his pack and laid down, thinking on Ningame’s words. A deep satisfaction filled his heart with the knowledge that the tortoise considered him worthy enough for whatever laid ahead. 

 

He fell asleep ensconced in the warm earth, safe from the wind which began to whine above him. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm cheating. i wanted to post a chapter, have the next one ready, and work on the one after that in the meantime, but i'm impatient. maybe i need to train under a tortoise of my own. hopefully this will not impact the update schedule too much. i'm almost done with school. not sure how long this fic will be, but it's not ending anytime soon. i'll still be working on it once school is out, so hopefully things will wrap up quickly after that. 
> 
> next chapter, gai will be in Turtle Land and the story will kick off from there. i've read up on summons on the wiki and have vague background knowledge from what i can remember from the show, but most of this i'm making up myself since we don't know much about the tortoise summons or their powers at all. 
> 
> this chapter is inspired by the japanese fairy tale urashima taro, wherein a fisherman rescues a turtle and is rewarded with a ride on its back to a dragon palace.

The peaceful night gave way to stormy skies. Gray thunderhead clouds swathed the sky above, releasing torrents of rain as the river rose to tumultuous heights.

 

Donned in his full ANBU uniform, Kakashi ran ahead of Gai. In sight but just out of reach. Gai chased after him, yelling his name to no avail. 

 

A great clap of lightning shook Gai to his bones. Kakashi halted, perfectly illuminated. Gai tackled him to the ground. Water swelled up onto the grass, soaking their legs. 

 

“Rival!” Gai yelled. Kakashi laid immobile, unresponsive. Gai clawed at the white mask hiding him from view. But the mask would not budge, adhered to Kakashi’s skin. Gai tore at it relentlessly, gripping the edges with slippery fingers.

 

A stream of water splashed Gai in the face. He fell off of Kakashi, choking. Unanchored by Gai’s weight, Kakashi was swept away by the flood. Gai clambered after him until he, too, got dragged under the current; he thrashed in the water, unable to breathe. 

 

His eyes flew open. He gasped for air. Oxygen filled his rapidly expanding chest. 

 

Gai sat up and his forehead rammed into hard earth. He fell back onto his elbows, rubbed his head, and blinked hurriedly. 

 

Ningame was bent over the burrow opening. His cheeks deflated; water harmlessly spilled from his mouth.

 

“You were screaming,” Ningame explained. “So I woke you up.” 

 

Gai pushed the damp hair out of his eyes. “You spat in my face,” he observed.

 

“Yes,” Ningame said, “I did.” 

 

How embarrassing. Gai’s face reddened. “Sorry.”

 

“No need to apologize. I was already awake.”

 

Gai looked down. “Alright.” 

 

“Don’t worry about it.” The tortoise stepped backward. “Just hurry up.” 

 

Gai took a deep breath and tried to calm down. It was stupid to dream about Kakashi. His subconscious needed to prioritize. Kakashi probably wasn’t even thinking of Gai at all, and here Gai was screaming his name in his sleep. At least, he assumed he had.

 

Gai tossed his pack ahead and pulled himself above ground. The forest was decidedly unflooded, sunlit and fragrant. “Did I say anything in particular?” he asked Ningame, who stood in wait. 

 

“Somebody’s name,” Ningame replied.

 

Gai sighed. 

 

“Who was it?” Ningame asked. “The person you’re hiding from?” 

 

“Yes,” Gai said without thinking, then frowned. “I mean - no. He is hiding from me.”

 

“You’re hiding from each other,” Ningame clarified. 

 

“No! Well, yes. Well - I don’t know!” Gai jumped to his feet and launched into a series of stretches. His body ached after spending the night in such cramped quarters. “What do you need me to hurry up for?” he asked, unsubtly changing the topic. 

 

Ningame laid down, limbs curled underneath his shell, and boredly watched Gai stretch. “We’ve got places to be.”

 

“We?” Folded in half, hands wrapped around either ankle, Gai paused and went through last evening’s conversation. “Your home,” he remembered, and immediately straightened. “You’re letting me come with you?”

 

“Yes,” Ningame confirmed. “I think you’ve got what it takes.” 

 

Gai ruminated on Ningame’s statement. He held his arm taut across his chest and his shoulder audibly popped. “Is it a spirit world?” he asked. 

 

“It’s my home,” Ningame said unhelpfully. 

 

“But you  _ are _ a spirit.”

 

“I am myself.” 

 

Gai scowled, put his hands on his hips. “Are you always this obfuscatory?” 

 

“Are you always this demanding?” Ningame countered, rising to match Gai’s impatience with his own stubbornness. “Stop asking so many questions. Everything will be revealed in due time. I’ve already said too much as it is.”

 

Gai rolled his eyes. “I barely know anything about you!”  

 

“Good,” Ningame grunted. He turned around and stalked off into the peripheral brush. 

 

“Hey, wait up!” Gai swung his pack onto his shoulders and sped after the tortoise. “Where are you going?” 

 

“I need to find some breakfast.” 

 

“Oh. I can help!” Gai dropped onto his hands an knees in a parody of the tortoise’s low gait. “I’ll be able to see things much better from your vantage point.” 

 

“You’re something else, kid,” Ningame said without a passing glance. “Let me know if you see any of those berries from yesterday. They were pretty good.” 

 

“Yes, sir!” 

 

Gai scouted ahead, parting the foliage around them. There was no telling when he’d be able to locate food next, so he wanted to stockpile as much as possible. He pocketed Ningame’s favored berries, roots and tubers for magnesium and potassium, and several types of leaves for their medicinal properties. 

 

Scaring small animals out of hiding as he went, Gai briefly entertained the idea of bagging a few squirrels or rabbits for protein. Ningame was a herbivore. Gai assumed wherever they were heading would have more tortoises, so he’d be relegated to a strictly vegetarian diet. But the animals scurried too fast for him to catch. And Ningame was forging ahead as if he had a destination in mind. Gai didn’t want to deviate from the charted course or waste time with hunting. The animals ran away with their lives intact - and Gai’s stomach growled at the loss. 

 

Ningame glanced over his shell. “Hungry?” 

 

Gai smiled at him. “Not at all!” 

 

Ningame stopped walking. Gai halted behind him. “What are you - “ 

 

Ningame reared back and rushed a hollow tree trunk. Leaves rained down on top of Gai’s head. 

 

Ningame dropped a stunned rabbit into his lap unceremoniously. “Don’t lie to me, kid.” 

 

“Oh,” Gai said, stupefied. He broke the rabbit’s neck before it could regather its wits, and looked up. “Thank you.” 

 

“That’ll be the only meat you’ll have for awhile, so make it count,” Ningame advised. “Once we head out you’re gonna have to eat like a tortoise, move like a tortoise, and fight like a tortoise.” 

 

“But,” Gai frowned, subconsciously wringing the dead rabbit in his hands, “that’s so  _ slow _ .” 

 

Ningame huffed, amused. “Of course you’d say that.” He resumed his lackadaisical pace. “You could always reject my offer and head back to Konohagakure.” 

 

“I’m not even sure what you’re offering!” Gai stuffed the rabbit into his pack. “Ningame, wait!” 

 

Ningame did not cease his march. “You’re worried about  _ me  _ slowing  _ you  _ down, when you’re the one always catching up.” 

 

“I - suppose I am,” Gai realized. He crawled to Ningame’s side. “I just don’t understand half of what you’re saying.” 

 

“That’s the point. Hey - look at that. We’re here.” 

 

Ningame passed the final wall of bushery. Knowing it wouldn’t bode any answers, Gai refrained from commenting and simply followed. 

 

They emerged into a grassy basin of fog hemmed in on all sides by large trees. Gai squinted, trying to peer through the thick air. The grass abruptly dropped off into a small pond - Gai had to brace himself on Ningame’s shell to avoid falling in. 

 

He rose over the tortoise and looked at the mouth of the narrow, connecting stream which faded off into the distance.

 

Cast in shadow, Ningame’s body took on a crimson shade as he turned to Gai. “Eat up,” he commanded. “Quickly.” 

 

Gai skinned and cooked the rabbit carelessly, too excited to steady his hands. He glanced down the pond’s stream often, wondering where it lead. The meat was barely finished when he shoved it into his mouth. Hot and half-raw, it scorched unpleasantly down his throat. 

 

“I’m ready,” he coughed, then succumbed to a fit of wheezing. He thumped his chest and scrabbled over the pond for a long drink.

 

Ningame laughed at him.

 

Gai sat down once his throat was no longer on fire and procured some berries. “Do you want a snack before we embark?” 

 

Ningame’s laughter ceased. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “Hand ‘em over.” 

 

Smiling, Gai upended his palm. 

 

“Thanks, kid. Now…” Ningame stepped into the water with a small splash and surprising amount of grace. “Get on my back.” 

 

“What? Why?” Gai quickly repacked the last of his supplies and jumped to his feet. “I can swim fine, I promise! No matter how long it takes! My stamina is unmatched!” 

 

“Just do it,” Ningame commanded. 

 

Gai looked behind himself, in Konoha’s general direction. An unannounced leave could incur a multitude of consequences. “How long will I be gone?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Ningame said. “Time works differently in spirit worlds.”

 

Gai whipped back to him. “So you  _ are _ a spirit!” 

 

“I never said I wasn’t.” Ningame waded up to the pond’s edge. “Look. I don’t have time for you to weigh your options. It’s now or never.”

 

But Gai had already made his decision. If not when he left Konoha, then surely when he allowed Ningame to follow him back to his campsite. He didn’t know what he was signing up for, but he was desperate. The Sandaime’s rejection, Kakashi’s distance - it was clear that Gai still needed to improve. And yet he’d already exhausted his own training methods. He mastered the Eight Gates, he became the greatest taijutsu specialist in Konoha - and still it wasn’t enough. He needed to reach beyond himself. If that lead him to a world of tortoises as confusing and infuriating as Ningame, so be it.

 

Not one to procrastinate, he climbed onto the tortoise’s shell and awkwardly situated himself, pack and all. “I’m ready,” he announced. 

 

“Alright,” Ningame said - a touch of proud approval coloring his voice. “I’ll wake you up once we get there.” 

 

Gai hunkered down, frowning. “But I’m not tired.”

 

“You will be,” Ningame informed. “Give it a few seconds.” 

 

Sure enough, Gai’s eyelids began to droop. “What… What did you…” He slumped over Ningame’s shell. The mist intensified around them, heavy and opaque. 

 

Ningame swam through the gentle waters without reply. Gai drifted off just as they entered the stream. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gai's arrival doesn't go smoothly, but he learns something interesting about ningame. since we don't know anything about ningame's backstory i decided to make up some stuff that coincides with gai's. 
> 
> decided to end the chapter a bit early, as what happens after is a bunch of exposition. everything will be explained in time...
> 
> minogame is inspired by a turtle of legend with the same name.

Gai awoke slowly, blinked and immediately cringed away from the violent sunlight piercing through blurred leaves. As his head cleared the forest sharpened around him, green and incandescent and brighter than anything found in the Land of Fire. 

 

He announced his consciousness with a low groan, Ningame’s bumpy shell digging into his stomach. 

 

“Rise and shine,” Ningame said, moseying along. The stream had widened into a clear blue river. “We’re here.” 

 

Gai wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep - or how he’d fallen asleep, for that matter. All he remembered was the mysterious blanket of fog settling over him as Nigame charted him through what must have been some type of portal between worlds. There was no telling how long he’d been out. His body felt sore, cramped from staying curled on Ningame’s back. But that could imply much more than a given length of time. 

 

Like dimensional travel. 

 

Certainly they were no longer on the outskirts of Konoha. Gai’s mouth fell open as he sat up to take in his new surroundings. 

 

Towering trees projected from the ground, tossing massive shadows onto waves of soft grass stirred by a gentle breeze. The temperature was perfectly mild, neither hot or cold, and the sun gleamed balmy and inviting. Miscellaneous plants crowded the riverbank, extending waxy leaves toward the water’s surface.

 

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Ningame asked, his guttural voice canted low so as to not disturb the tranquil atmosphere. 

 

“It’s beautiful,” Gai breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

 

“Consider yourself lucky.” Ningame stilled to an effortless tread, turned to affix Gai with a critical side glance. “You’re the first human to visit in years.” 

 

“Oh.” Gai broadened his shoulders. “I understand.” 

 

“No, you don’t. We’re about to reach Minogame-sama,” Ningame warned, the name carrying a pronounced gravity, “and I’m not exactly supposed to recruit people.” 

 

Gai slumped, frowning confusedly. “You’re recruiting me? What for?” 

 

“Are you serious? Why the hell do you think I’m doing this?”

 

“To aid in my training…?”

 

Ningame scoffed. “Sure, but what’s in it for me?” 

 

“Um…” Now that Ningame mentioned it, he didn’t seem selfless enough to extend courtesy to an unknown shinobi without something in return. Gai had been so focused on the prospect of getting stronger he hadn’t stopped to consider what it might entail. But here he was, stuck in some unearthly realm with a crotchety guide. “I don’t know, actually.” 

 

Ningame rolled his eyes. “Minogame-sama will explain it better than I can. Just…be on your best behavior.” 

 

“Of course,” Gai said. He wished Ningame hadn’t eaten all those berries. Maybe other tortoises would like them just as much. And by the way Ningame spoke of this particular tortoise, it sounded like he deserved good favor. Gai figured he should start somewhere - perhaps Ningame could vouch for his honor. “I am willing to do whatever it takes,” he told his strange companion, “No matter the cost.” 

 

Ningame’s mouth quirked. “That remains to be seen.” He turned back around and resumed swimming. 

 

The river’s current slowed to a standstill as they approached a waterfall tucked into a copse of greenery, footed by a large pool. Here the sparkling water looked more crystalline than ever. Groups of colorful tortoises, ranging in size but none smaller than Ningame, sunbathed on a crescent of rocky plateaus. 

 

They all watched Gai glide in on Ningame’s back with bewildered suspicion.

 

“What’s a human doing here?” one called out. 

 

“You’re in for it now, Ningame,” another jeered. 

 

Gai kept his mouth shut and eyes downcast as Ningame came to a stop at the pool’s center. The audience’s murmurings increased but Ningame remained silent, staring at the waterfall in wait. Gai chanced a glance upward, humbly curled in on himself as if it would lessen the shock of his advent. 

 

The tortoises shared the same wrinkly skin and beady eyes, so Gai could only judge their age by size. The largest ones sneered down at him with distaste, while the smaller youths clambered over each other to get a better look - Gai smiled at the latter, and they chattered excitedly amongst themselves. 

 

“Any second now,” Ningame muttered. 

 

Gai looked at his friend - or rather, the back of his head. “What are we waiting for?” he asked in a hushed whisper.

 

“Sit tight,” Ningame ordered, resolutely staring ahead. “Stop looking at everybody.” 

 

Abashed, Gai bent lower so that his chin nearly touched the top of Ningame’s head. “Sorry.” 

 

The crowd abruptly silenced as the waterfall parted before them. Something lifted out of the water - massive and covered in vegetation, it appeared to be a small island. Rippling waves swelled outward; Gai clutched the sides of Ningame’s shell as they were tossed up and down.

 

Water continued streaming down the island’s sides while a thick, oblong mass surged from its base followed by a giant reptilian head. Gai’s eyes widened - the island was not an island at all, but a colossal tortoise which encompassed the entirety of the pool. Its head ascended over the surrounding bluff at full height. 

 

Every tortoise bowed, Ningame included, and Gai belatedly followed suit.

 

“Ningame,” the beast said. Its voice rumbled across the water’s expanse.

 

“Minogame-sama,” Ningame replied, lifting his head. “I know what you’re thinking - “ 

 

“Silence.” 

 

Ningame cowed respectfully. 

 

Minogame swam forward, bent his enormous neck to stare at Gai, who remained crouched. Each of Minogame’s eyes were the size of his head - and Minogame’s head, scaled with delineated valleys, was larger than Gai’s entire frame.

 

“Who are you, human?” 

 

Gai’s heart thudded in his chest as the tortoise’s breath stirred his hair. 

 

“ _ Say _ something, kid,” Ningame hissed. 

 

Gai blurted out his name.  “Maito Gai of Konohagakure.”

 

“The Village Hidden in the Leaf,” Minogame mused. “And what has brought you here, shinobi of the Leaf?” 

 

Ningame spoke before Gai could formulate a reply. “He helped me out of a tough spot. I’ve been watching him, Minogame-sama, he’s a good kid.” 

 

Minogame glanced at the smaller tortoise, eyes narrowed. “You snuck off to the mortal plane again? And elected to bring an unneeded tribute?” 

 

“Tribute?” Gai asked; both tortoises ignored him. 

 

“The situation is dire,” Ningame insisted. “It’s been too long since our last - “ 

 

“That’s enough, Ningame.” 

 

“You don’t understand,” Ningame fiercely continued. “You haven’t seen the mortal plane. It’s a mess out there! And, quite frankly, we aren’t faring any better!” 

 

“I understand fully,” Minogame said. “The mortals abandoned us. I will not let it happen again.” 

 

Barely following the conversation, Gai lifted his hand. “Um - if I may -  _ what _ happened, Minogame-sama?” 

 

Minogame’s momentous gaze shifted. “He is well-mannered.”

 

“I  _ told _ you,” Ningame said. 

 

“I was being facetious,” Minogame clarified. He looked at Gai. “Do not interrupt me requesting information you are not authorized to know.” 

 

Gai dropped his hand and meekly nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

 

“Well then. Perhaps I should rescind my reprimand. He’s more behaved than you,” Minogame said to Ningame. 

 

“So he’s eligible!” Ningame proclaimed. 

 

“No. You need to return him to his own realm. This game is over.” Minogame swam back to his initial spot underneath the waterfall. Again, Gai had to hold steady onto Ningame’s shell.

 

“Now wait a minute!” Ningame stretched his neck over the tall waves. “I brought Gai here! He’s not going back unless I say!” 

 

Minogame sighed. “You are immature, Ningame. Your youthful spirit keeps you from seeing reason.” 

 

Gai leaned to the side so he could face Ningame properly. “You’re  _ young _ ?” he asked with disbelief. 

 

“The youngest one among us,” Minogame confirmed. “Please forgive him. He knows not the trouble he causes.” 

 

“Hey, now!” Gai rose onto his knees to defend his friend. “I came here out of my own volition!”

 

“If that is the case, the situation is worse than I thought.” Minogame swept a massive leg under the water, forcing Ningame and Gai to sail backwards into the river. The other tortoises crawled down from the rocks to block access to the pool.

 

“This isn’t over,” Ningame shouted, “we’ll show you!” 

 

He promptly swam away. Gai looked over his shoulder and caught a final glimpse of Minogame’s vegetated shell before the large tortoise disappeared from view. 

 

“Forget about them, Gai,” Ningame said. “Looks like we’re on our own.” 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little longer. i'll try to update ASAP but i'm not sure when that will be, i've got a bunch of finals coming up. only about two more weeks, and then i'm free! until june classes, lol. 
> 
> a lot of this was extrapolated from the lack of info in canon. nobody else has tortoise summons besides gai. plus it doesn't look like he has any special tortoise superpowers. what does that mean? also, for a tortoise, ningame is strangely animated. i've made up my own answers to those questions. 
> 
> a note on gai's characterization... if he seems a little somber, that's the point? he's younger here, and insecure. this is before he becomes the paragon of confidence we know him as. it probably took him awhile to work through a childhood of trauma and bullying, despite his skills. he's got personal stuff to work out. as for his allegiance to konoha/kakashi, it always irks me how gai is basically defined by them alone. he's his own person, damn it!

Gai remained silent atop Ningame’s back as they traveled upstream. The tortoise was quite irate, mumbling to himself. Gai had many questions, but knew by now Ningame would tell him anything he needed to know eventually. It was a lesson in patience Gai was struggling to abide. 

 

The surrounding foliage provided an apt distraction. The trees grew in height and the riverbank plants grew in size. Gai spotted large fruits hanging between platter-sized leaves, bright and colorful. Gripping one side of Ningame’s shell, Gai stretched his arm and plucked a fruit off its stem. Rotund and violet, the fruit encompassed the entirety of Gai’s palm. He could barely make a fist around it. The skin felt thick and rough, but the flesh underneath had a spongy give to it. 

 

Ningame abruptly turned his head. “What are you doing back there?” 

 

Gai looked up, the fruit pierced between either of his thumbs. “I’m hungry.” 

 

Ningame rolled his eyes. “That’s poisonous.”

 

“What?!” Gai tossed the fruit into the water. “How?” 

 

“Poisonous for humans, I mean,” Ningame said. “Tortoises have hardy stomachs.” 

 

“Ugh.” Gai set his elbows on his knees and dropped his chin in his hands. “I’m going to starve, aren’t I?” 

 

“Not necessarily.” Ningame turned back around and swam toward the riverbank. “Hop off, kid.” 

 

Gai climbed off of Ningame’s back, pulled himself up by a pair of overhanging stalks, and sat down in the grass. Ningame followed with a substantial amount of ease. 

 

“Jeeze, you’re heavy,” Ningame groaned. He shook out his limbs, then slipped under a thicket of leaves and emerged with the purple fruit in his mouth. He ate it in a few bites, skin and all, spraying juice everywhere. 

 

Gai wiped himself off with a frown. “This is no place for a human being, is it?” 

 

“Not necessarily,” Ningame repeated. 

 

“I’m growing sick of your ways,” Gai told him. 

 

“Well, I’ll be out of your hair soon.” 

 

Gai’s frown deepened. “You’re sending me back?” 

 

“No. If Minogame-same really wanted you gone, he would’ve kicked you out himself.” Ningame’s shell rustled with something like a shrug. “This is a test for you and me both. He might not trust you, but he knows you’re practically our last hope.” Ningame smirked. “No pressure.” 

 

“Why doesn’t he trust me?” Gai asked. “I’ve done nothing to cause suspicion, I don’t think.” 

 

“It’s not just you. It’s all humans.” Ningame sighed and sat down next to Gai. “It’s a long story.” 

 

Gai patted Ningame’s head, aggrieved to see his friend distressed. “I am willing to listen.” 

 

“Do you know anything about summons?” Ningame asked. 

 

“Summons?” Gai’s hand stilled. “That’s what this is about?” 

 

“I can’t say I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out.”

 

“But I thought summons contracts were passed down through one’s lineage,” Gai said, thinking of Kakashi’s dogs. 

 

“Tortoises aren’t affiliated with any clan or master,” Ningame said. “Not anymore.” 

 

“Minogame-sama said you were betrayed,” Gai remembered. “What happened?” 

 

Ningame scowled. “Mortal hubris.” 

 

He paused, staring out at the river. Gai waited for him to continue. 

 

“Tortoises aren’t exactly offensive beings,” Ningame began. “We are best used for defense. Eons ago, when your great villages were nothing but warring clans, we were ascripted for such purposes. A select few shinobi, known as the tortoise sages, entered contracts. We helped them protect their lands, and in turn their chakra revitalized our realm. It was a mutual exchange. But they served a greater purpose: to do our bidding in the mortal world.” 

 

“Like what?” Gai questioned. 

 

Ningame stared at him, exasperated. “What’re tortoises known for, huh? Patience. Longevity. Tenacity. But it wasn’t enough for the humans. They consolidated, grew hungry. Soon, it wasn’t about protecting their own lands anymore - but attacking the lands of others. The humans turned to different sources for power, and last of the tortoise sages died without having passed on their contracts. We were forgotten - betrayed, as Minogame-sama put it. The mortal world lost its patience, hasn’t it? Hell - you’ve got tailed beasts running amok!” 

 

Gai couldn’t deny Ningame’s observation, but - “What does any of this have to do with me?” 

 

“I’m  _ getting  _ there.” Ningame stood. “Follow me.” 

 

Ningame lead him into the forest. The ground slanted uphill, and Gai had to adjust his footing accordingly. Every now and then he slid backward a few paces, forcing Ningame to wait. 

 

Finally, they crested the incline and arrived on a flat plateau overlooking not only the river, but the tortoise realm as a whole.

 

Gai’s eyes widened. He stepped closer to the precipice, disbelief written across his face. 

 

The forest greenery dissipated into crumbling darkness and the river splintered into churning currents, all of it leading to a black, stormy horizon. It was as if the sun itself abandoned the far reaches of the realm - or, more accurately, the storm was encroaching upon everything below it. The land flattened to ominous lakes in the west, broke into shadowy forestry in the north, and turned jagged with rocky crags to the east. 

 

Ningame stopped beside Gai’s feet. “See? We aren’t faring any better. This is what happens when we’re forgotten for centuries.” 

 

Gai glanced over his shoulder to ensure that the bright, lively forest behind them wasn’t an illusion. “I never would have guessed…”

 

“Minogame-sama is holding off the worst of it,” Ningame explained. “But even his infinite reserves can’t stop the inevitable. We’ve been cut off from the natural world for too long. Mortals and spirits are supposed to work together. That’s how it is. One cannot survive without the other.” 

 

Gai had a sudden premonition that he was a part of something much larger than himself, his rivalry with Kakashi, or Konoha. He looked down at Ningame. “What can I do to help?” 

 

Ningame narrowed his eyes. “Do you know what a summoning contract entails, Gai?” 

 

“My blood,” Gai answered. He’d seen Kakashi summon ninken enough. 

 

“Your soul, too,” Ningame added. “Fealty, beyond that of which you’ve sworn to your village.”

 

“Oh.” Gai retrieved his hitai-ate from his pack and held it in his hands. Then he looked back at the dying world before him. If Ningame was correct, the consequences of this realm’s destruction would reach Konoha, too - and the entire mortal plane. He fisted his hitai-ate tightly. “Would I still be a shinobi of the Leaf?” 

 

“Theoretically, yes,” Ningame said, offering Gai a small amount of relief. “But your true loyalty would lie with us tortoises.” 

 

“My rival is of the Hatake clan,” Gai said. “Their dogs…” 

 

“Are servants to their pack masters,” Ningame said. “You would be ours.” 

 

Gai brushed his thumb over the forehead protector’s metal plate. “And what would you have me do?” 

 

“Uphold the tenets of our ways,” Ningame replied. “I already told you - patience, longevity, and tenacity.”

 

Self-consciousness arose in Gai’s heart. The Leaf insignia on his hitai-ate glinted in the sunlight, mockingly, beseechingly. If he couldn’t even manage to join the ANBU, how could he become what Ningame called a tortoise sage? “What makes you think I am capable of such a thing?” he asked. 

 

“My name is Ningame,” Ningame said. 

 

Gai blinked, looking away to stare at the tortoise. 

 

“It means ninja tortoise,” Ningame said. “I really am the youngest one left. I was born just as your shinobi world came into being. It was predicted I would partner with a shinobi, before it all went to hell. Minogame-sama might’ve given up on our purpose, but I haven’t. For the last few decades I’ve been using the last of our chakra to scope out potential prospects. I’ve only found a few candidates who meet the criteria, and even then none of them accepted my offer once I revealed myself. Nobody but you has ever gotten this far, Gai.”

 

“I need to sit down,” Gai said, and he sat down - legs hanging over the plateau edge, his hitai-ate splayed across his lap. 

 

“I’ve been watching you longer than you think,” Ningame confessed. “I’ve seen you do more than climb up a cliff.” 

 

“Such as?” Gai asked with trepidation.

 

“Transform yourself from a pitiful orphan into the powerful man you are today.” 

 

Gai swallowed. “You mean…” 

 

“Yes,” Ningame nodded. “I showed up after your father died, and I’ve been waiting for the right moment ever since.”

 

Gai exhaled shakily. The self-consciousness in his chest darkened to something dreadful and anxious. “You’ve been watching me for nearly half of my life.” 

 

“Pretty much.” 

 

“So what I told you about my father…” 

 

“I already knew.” 

 

Gai gritted his teeth. “You lied to me!”

 

“I wanted you to come to your own decision without my influence,” Ningame said. “I’m telling you all of this now, aren’t I?” 

 

Gai paused, considering. “After my father died, Konoha was all I had left.” 

 

“And you would still be able to perform your duties,” Ningame assured. “Just at a much larger capacity.” 

 

“How so?” Gai asked. 

 

“I’m not gonna trick you with false pretenses anymore, kid,” Ningame said. “You aren’t gonna get any new abilities. Tortoises aren’t powerful in what we wield, but how we go about it all.” 

 

Anyone else might’ve been disappointed, but Gai was relieved. He had his own techniques handed down from his father, others self-made, and never accepted outside help. Perhaps that is what set him behind the likes of Kakashi, the Copy Nin with borrowed Sharingan, but it was part of who Gai was as a man and a shinobi - and he would prove his own worth by his own methods. 

 

Ningame seemed to predict his lack of disappointment. Still, he asked, “That’s not a problem, is it?”

 

“No,” Gai confirmed. 

 

“You’ve got the heart of an ancient warrior,” Ningame said, “from times simpler than these. You don’t need all the bells and whistles, do you?” 

 

Gai shrugged. “I’ve learned to live without.” 

 

“And you are stronger because of it.” Ningame stepped forward, so that his head was level with Gai’s - nostrils flared, each of his red scales aflame in the sunlight, beady eyes sharp with resolve. “I can teach you how to become ever stronger. Forget about your village, your father, and your rival for a second. What do you want?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Gai admitted. He lived his entire life by those three things. Taken out of context, Gai felt purposeless. “My youth,” he said. That was all he had, wasn’t it? That was what laid underneath. His youth and his drive - directionless now, so far away from Konoha and its ties. 

 

“Your youth,” Ningame repeated. He smiled, his gums sticky and stained purple. “We could use a little bit of that around these parts.”

 

“You have youth,” Gai said. “It sounds like you are the only youthful one left.” 

 

“Not anymore, now that you’re here,” Ningame corrected. His voice raised with excitement. “You want youth? You’ve already got it. But I can teach you how to harness it. What is youth worth if you can’t make it last?” 

 

“Nothing,” Gai said. The image of his dead father appeared in his mind. 

 

Ningame sat down. They looked at the dying world together. 

 

“This is part of my destiny, Gai,” Ningame said. “And since I’ve chosen you, it’s part of yours, too. Maito Gai, the tortoise sage. It has a nice ring to it, yeah?” 

 

Maito Gai, the tortoise sage. Not the son of the eternal genin, not Hatake Kakashi’s rival, not shinobi of the Leaf - ANBU  _ or _ jounin. This would be something of Gai’s and his alone. He never realized how constrained he felt by his commitments until now. He’d always been defined in relation to others. Now, he would be defined by himself. 

 

“It does indeed.” He turned to Ningame and smiled. “Where do I begin?” 

 

“Given the circumstances, it’ll be more difficult for you than your predecessors,” Ningame said. “There are three trials and a final rite of passage. Minogame-sama usually watches over the proceedings, so I’ll do it in his place. It needs to be legitimate. I can’t help at all - I just tell you where to go.” He nodded at the horizon. “Do you see that lake, to the west? That’s where you’ll go first. Are you ready?” 

 

Gai stood. He pocketed his hitai-ate, tightened his pack, and nodded. “Yes!” 

 

Ningame smirked. “Okay. I’ll meet you there…” 

 

Before Gai could ask what Ningame meant, the tortoise scrambled backward and headbutted him. 

 

Gai fell screaming off the plateau and crashed into the river below.  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angry Boy Teen gai has his determination tested by the new turn of events. 
> 
> shorter chapter as i felt it ended nicely here. next chapter gai will have his first Trial with a capital T. also i want to draw attention to the wilderness survival tag. whilst theres lots of angst and feelings there will also be a lot of stuff like gai climbing a bunch of trees unsuccessfully lmao. i think it'll be interesting to throw gai up against nature itself. he can't just fight his way through it like he can a human opponent. if u are disappointed by that fact know that gai is too. there will be some combat eventually tho.
> 
> ps i made a tumblr???? lmao. i swore off on that damn website years ago but i wanted to see more kakagai stuff so *shrug emoji* 
> 
> i will probably just reblog stuff and post links to my fic as i update. if anyone has any requests/prompts feel free to send them to me. 
> 
> https://zu0tian.tumblr.com/

Whipping winds abruptly silenced as Gai plummeted several meters into the river. His entire body seized at the cold temperature. Weighed down by his pack, he paddled upward and broke through the surface with chattering teeth, hair plastered to his face. The current ripped around his legs, threatening to pull him under; he swam parallel to its course and eventually managed to scramble over the riverbank. 

 

He collapsed onto his back, pack and all, and paused to recollect his breath. He could barely make out Ningame’s silhouette over the top of the plateau. No doubt the tortoise was laughing at him. 

 

“Step to it, kid,” Ningame shouted. “You’ve got a long walk ahead of you.” 

 

Gai’s eyes widened. “Wait!  _ Ningame _ \- “ 

 

Ningame did not heed his call and swiftly disappeared from view. Gai let his head drop back into the grass and sighed. 

 

He catalogued his surroundings. The forest had regained its unassuming outward appearance, but now Gai knew the darkness and destruction which laid beyond.  _ Given the circumstances, it’ll be more difficult for you than your predecessors _ , Ningame had said. What did that mean, Gai wondered? 

 

He wouldn’t know until he saw it for himself, so he climbed to his feet, sopping wet and encumbered by his soiled pack which now weighed double. He wished Ningame had given him a chance to chart a course through the woods because he honestly had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that the plateau pointed north and he needed to head westward.

 

Hoping to find higher ground, Gai embarked blindly, stepping over giant fronds and tree roots the size of grown men. The forest grew dark and deathly quiet, the tangled path before him illuminated by a scant amount of sunlight piercing through the thickening canopy. Irritated with moisture, the wounds on his chest and hands itched, bandages sticking uncomfortably to his skin, and he fought against the urge to scratch at them as he walked.

 

The forest stayed at a level plane, neither inclinding nor declining. Gai stopped to reconsider his predicament. It was pointless to continue onward without a plan in mind. He might end up circling back to Minogame-sama himself! The thought of encountering the elder tortoise without Ningame was wholly unappealing. He needed to figure out a new plan of action. 

 

Gai peered at the tree in front of him. Its trunk stretched high into the air, leading to a crown indiscernible from the canopy; even its lowermost branches hung completely out of reach. This wouldn’t stop Gai, however. 

 

He loosened the straps of his pack and let it fall to the ground behind him with a dramatic flourish, then spread his legs and rubbed his palms together to psyche himself up. 

 

“I am not intimidated by your scale,” he told the tree. “I’ve climbed a thousand trees in my lifetime without fail! Prepare for the full might of my approach!” 

 

Gai rocketed upward and desperately stretched for the tree’s low branches - but they escaped his grasp, and he hurtled back to the hard ground. Pain sizzled through his tailbone up into his spine. Gai shook it off, standing.

 

“Your height is indomitable,” he appraised, “but so am I!” 

 

He tried again, bracing his foot on the tree trunk to execute a double jump, but it was as if the branches rose another meter to evade his clutches. Then he tried channeling chakra into his bare feet and sprinted toward the tree with a running start, but the chakra sluiced from his soles and he crashed once more, flat on his back. 

 

“Damn it!” Gai cursed.  _ That _ had never happened to him before. He gauged his chakra pathways, then flexed his toes - everything appeared to be in working order, but all of his techniques were ineffective. 

 

Maybe this particular tree was defective. Gai attempted to scale the adjacent trees - each of them just as insurmountable. He collapsed into the grass after his third failure, panting with exhaustion, feet bruised. Defeat crawled into his heart. How could he possibly move forward if he didn’t know which direction he was moving? 

 

Gai squinted at the surrounding brush, searching for a crimson tortoise shell. “Oi, Ningame… I know you are out there…” 

 

The tortoise  _ had _ to be watching his every move. But no reply came.

 

“I would appreciate some assistance,” Gai said. “I know you cannot say anything forthright, but perhaps you can give me a hint, or a riddle - or a limerick, even!” Ningame could probably spout off a great limerick, Gai thought. “Something like… Gai tried to climb a tree - he failed each time and broke his ass; stupid and hopeless was he!” He grinned to himself, listening for an amused chuckle. “That was pretty good, eh?”

 

The stalwart trees stared down at him in judgement. His smile fell when Ningame offered no response. 

 

“I am beginning to think you lied when you said this was my destiny. What if I want to give up?” he demanded. “Would you take me back to Konoha?” This was a bluff. Gai was just as lost there as he was here; nothing would be gained upon returning.

 

Silence reigned in answer to his question.

 

“Agh…” Gai sat up, his legs bent to his chest, and angrily tore fistfuls of grass. “You just just like Kakashi,” he grumbled. “Showing up out of the blue with big promises, only to disappear when I need you the most. But…” Gai frowned, hands slackening. “But I am fine without Kakashi. I don’t need him. And I don’t need you!” He glared at the undergrowth around him, hoping Ningame was listening. “That’s the test, isn’t it?” If so, he’d already had lots of study. 

 

Chagrined, Gai rose to his feet. “I’ve got plenty of experience dealing with the silent treatment, I’ll have you know! I’ve been ignored and left behind my whole life! You’ll have to try harder than that to break my spirits!”

 

With that, Gai walked back to his wet pack and dumped everything out, then rifled through his upended supplies until locating the last of his bandages now soggy and worthless. 

 

Gai tied the bandages around the first tree he had failed to climb. Armed only with his hunting knife, he then discarded the rest of his supplies and set off deeper into the forest.

 

Perhaps it didn’t matter if he knew where to go. Perhaps it only mattered that he _went_.   
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't like this chapter but i don't hate it..... it is what it is. loosely inspired by an adventure time episode lol, i wonder if anyone can guess which.

The sun had yet to waver from its unseen perch. Gai eyed the cerulean sky above him as he forged through the forest. Ningame told him time worked differently here - so how long did each night/day cycle last, he wondered? Truth be told, he was beginning to tire. He hadn’t slept since passing out atop Ningame’s shell; hadn’t eaten before then, either. 

 

His stomach rumbled. Gai paused, glaring at the gaps of sunlight between the canopy. If he were food, where would he be? Or, more appropriately - if he were a  _ tortoise _ , where would be look for food? 

 

With an exasperated sigh, Gai lowered onto his hands and knees and proceeded to crawl into the tangled undergrowth. He spotted the same forbidden fruit Ningame scarfed down after their meeting with Minogame-sama. Gai wouldn’t put it past Ningame to lie about it being inedible, but didn’t want to chance it. The only thing worse than dying in a spirit world unbeknownst to your friends/village would be dying in a spirit world unbeknownst to your friends/village because you ate something poisonous after being explicitly told not to. 

 

Gai delved deeper into the bushes, searching for leafy greens. He came upon a promising three-pronged plant with a sturdy stem, and found thick white tubers waiting for him after he yanked the stem out of the ground. 

 

“Nice,” Gai said. He crossed his legs and rubbed the leaf on the back of his hand. His skin didn’t blister or redden after a few seconds, so Gai popped one of the tubers into his mouth and let it sit on his tongue. No burning sensation followed. He chewed the tubers into a pulp and pushed the pulp into the inside of his cheek. This was a terrible way of eating food, but it allowed him to test for any negative reactions before ingesting. The tubers tasted bland and earthy. Gai could stomach pretty much anything - growing up on his father’s famously spicy curry toughened his gut and palette - but it wasn’t  _ enjoyable _ by any means. 

 

He waited for another minute or so then tentatively gulped. The mushy tubers slid down his throat into his stomach. Gai sat for a bit, waiting to die. When he remained alive he decided the food was safe enough and searched for more of the same plant. He chewed and swallowed as he went picking through the underbrush.

 

Gai circled back once his stomach was full of the untasty sustenance, ducking under branches and climbing over tree roots. He emerged back onto his general path and rose to his feet covered in dirt, leaves and twigs tangled in his hair. 

 

He attempted to remove the debris as he walked. Distracted, he did not immediately realize that he’d somehow ended up back where he initially began. A stripe of white fabric stuck out from the forest’s green and purple undertones. 

 

Gai lowered his hands from his hair and blinked thrice. “No,” he said. 

 

The tree he’d tied his bandages around stood before him. This was impossible. Gai hadn’t gone that far off course, and he certainly hadn’t turned himself around so terribly. 

 

Gai glanced over his shoulder, then back at the tree. “This is impossible,” he said. He hated this tree. “I hate you,” he told the tree. 

 

The tree did not respond. Gai kicked at it, forgetting that his foot was bare. His toes crushed against the bark. He jumped backward and clutched his foot with a curse. 

 

“I never want to see you again,” he snarled at the tree. “Goodbye!” 

 

With that, he whirled north yet again and resumed his march, limping slightly until his toe pain ebbed away. He snapped low hanging branches at a ninety degree angle as he went, to keep better track of his trail. 

 

“There’s no way I’ll get lost now,” Gai told himself. He literally patted himself on the back, chose not to analyze his newfound habit of narrating his inner thoughts out loud in the silent forest. “That was a pretty good idea, haha!” 

 

He walked on and on in a determinedly straight line, his eyes never moving from the ground in front of him. 

 

The path narrowed to a point, obstructed by a stubborn bough. Gai hacked the bough away with his hunting knife. Surely his destination would be unveiled now! 

 

Gai’s excitement disappeared into a scowl as he stepped forward. “You’ve  _ got  _ to be kidding!”

 

He’d returned to the same tree from before. 

 

Gai did not give himself time to question his sanity. He sprinted past the tree, deeper into the forest. The branches he’d previously broken clipped his shoulders as he ran faster and faster - to escape his torment, to find a way out of this maze. 

 

But his suspicions were confirmed when he landed back at his starting point. He  _ was _ going in circles. Not of his own accord, but that of the forest. It was playing tricks on him. 

 

Gai whammed his clenched fist into the obstinate tree. The skin on his knuckles split open and his bandages fell away. His entire arm trembled with the force of his punch, but the tree bark did not break unlike the many posts at Konoha’s training grounds. 

 

“Of course,” Gai huffed, shaking his hand out. Droplets of blood flung across his orange shirt. 

 

Defeated and exhausted, he collapsed into the grass with his back against the tree. He examined his scabbed and encrusted palm, undid the bandages on his other hand and the ones around his chest. It was all pointless, anyway. 

 

Gai shifted his legs, rested his elbows on his knees, and stared at the grass between his bruised toes. 

 

“I never should’ve listened to you, Ningame,” he grunted. It felt therapeutic to vent his frustrations. “How the hell am I supposed to reach the end of an endless forest?” He remembered Ningame’s final chortle -  _ You’ve got a long walk ahead of you.  _ At least he was honest about that. 

 

But… Gai frowned, trying to remember even more, and thought back to his question about the duties of a tortoise sage 

 

_ “And what would you have me do?” _

 

_ “Uphold the tenets of our ways. I already told you - patience, longevity, and tenacity.” _

 

Then, when Ningame told him about his initiation… 

 

_ There are three trials and a final rite of passage. _

 

Three tenets and a trial for each. Gai did not think this never ending loop matched with longevity, for his endurance was not being tested, necessarily. Only his patience. 

 

“Patience,” Gai murmured. He stood, mouth spread in a resolute grin. “That’s it!” 

 

He walked the same route again and again. Whether or not he traveled straight, diagonally, or sideways, he always ended up back in the same place, no matter how he deviated from his original course. 

 

Gai did not give up. He repeated the word “patience” aloud, a new mantra to keep his focus intact. He walked for so long that the cloudless sky finally darkened to a dusky gradient of orange and violet. 

 

Gai stopped to observe the changing hues, head craned up to a chasm in the trees. The sunset diffused over his skin, coloring its permanently tanned, olive tone even darker. The sky was truly magnificent, more vibrant and warm than anything he’d ever seen in the real world. It calmed his frustrations, reinvigorated his tired body, and set his mind at ease. 

 

The sight of it gave worth and meaning to his endless hike. Gai began to suspect that without the incessant passage of time the sky never would’ve changed at all. This spirit realm did not seem to follow a normal chronology; rather, it felt like an organic, conscious system, changes activated only by actions taken. Perhaps it’d simply forgotten how to properly respond after such a long period of inactivity. 

 

But Gai was undeterred. He was the chosen next sage after all, according to Ningame. Though he spoke of it often, he did not believe in destiny in the traditional sense. To Gai, destiny was something you make for yourself. If Gai was destined to become the next tortoise sage, it was only so because  _ he _ would  _ make  _ it happen. 

 

He continued onward, but halted when he encountered an unfamiliar blockade. A giant uprooted tree laid on its side, barring the way forward.

 

“Weird,” Gai muttered. He looked behind himself, then back ahead, to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things. He’d finally pushed through the forest’s paradox, only to encounter this new obstacle. 

 

No matter. Gai shuffled back a few steps, stretched his legs, and rubbed his palms together. He sprinted, launched into a huge leap, and slammed into the tree’s wide girth, nails dug into its bark. 

 

Gai scrambled up, lost his balance, and somersaulted over the other side of the tree. He fell face first - not into the tangled forest floor, but instead a grassy knoll. 

 

Lifting his head, he found himself at the crest of an expansive hill. The intrepid forest thinned along its perimeter, allowing a clear view of the sunset and the disparate darkness which laid beyond. Snaking around this border was the river which had returned in all its glory, leading downward to the beginnings of a crystalline basin where the forest condensed again. 

 

“I did it,” Gai breathed. Beaming, he climbed to his feet and pumped his fists into the air. “I did it! I did it! YOSH!!!!” He broke out into a run down the hill. “I’m on my way, Ningame!” 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delayed update. i got kind of burnt out on writing and needed to focus on Real Life. that being said i really like this chapter!! 
> 
> people always write kakashi as such a moody bitch, it's time for gai to have his own pity party. Let Gai Have Feelings 2k19. it's happening. it's here. he's just a teenager who's had a shit life and has never allowed himself to be soft or weak!!!!!! let gai be vulnerable and sad. it's cathartic for him.
> 
> besides FEELINGS the other stuff in this chapter will be extrapolated upon soon. i am starting my summer classes week after next, so i'm hoping i can churn out another chapter before then. with this chapter we're at 14500 words which is such a neat even number i almost might not write anymore (just kidding)
> 
> i snuck a meme reference in here just because it fit the scene and i thought gai would say something like that.

Gai tripped halfway down the knoll and ended up tumbling the rest of the way, halting only when he rammed into a tree at the bottom of the hill. Leaves rained on top of him as he groaned. He sat up, rubbing his head with a pout; his victory sprint hadn’t looked as cool as he’d hoped it would, nevermind the fact that no one was around to witness it (save for a potential tortoise stalker).

 

Salvaging his remaining dignity, Gai stood up and brushed the leaves off of him. His ears perked when he heard the sound of rushing waters, followed by a loud rumble in the sky. Gai looked up as gray roiling clouds swamped the glowing sunset. 

 

His inquisitive frown darkened into a livid glare, as if his discontent could postpone the incoming storm. When the clouds did not abate, Gai ducked into the forest, hoping that the canopy would offer protection from the rain, but snapped a comically large leaf off its stem and used it as a makeshift umbrella just to be safe.

 

The forest here was considerably thicker. Vines strangled tree trunks and hung from branches like lazy snakes, grazing Gai’s shoulders as he walked. The ground squished mossy and malleable under his bare feet. 

 

The lessening sunlight and heavy canopy dragged visibility down to a minimum, forcing Gai to squint as he attempted to follow the sound of rushing water to its source. His throat was parched and he desperately wanted a drink. 

 

Drops of rain petered through the canopy, thudded audibly on his leaf umbrella, then dripped down in front of his face. Gai stuck his tongue out and tried catching a few, but quickly abandoned the effort when he nearly tripped again. 

 

Goosebumps rose along his arms as he continued onward. Gai never ignored his shinobi sense and did not ignore it now. He halted and whipped his leaf umbrella in front of him like a shield, yet all he could hear was the increasing rain. It indeed gave the forest a brooding appearance, but Gai was not superstitious by nature. Remembering Ningame’s cryptic warning, Gai knew something seriously sinister lurked beyond the shadows.

 

Hackles raised, he took a cautious step forward. Rain trailed down his face without the umbrella over his head. Gai blinked away the moisture. Vision clearing, his suspicion gave way to relief when he noticed a familiar silhouette a few meters ahead. 

 

Smiling, he ambled closer. “Ningame, my friend! My, am I glad to see you - “  

 

The tortoise did not respond or move to greet him in kind. Rather, it stood still as a rock. Gai stopped before he neared any closer, tossed his leaf umbrella away and wielded his hunting knife instead. 

 

“Who are you?” he asked, for the being before him was not Ningame. It was a tortoise, that much was true, but it did not look like any tortoise Gai had seen since arriving in this world. A few degrees larger than Ningame, black all around without definition save for its blank white eyes, the tortoise stared at Gai expressionlessly. 

 

Gai straightened out of his defensive stance but kept his grip tight on his hunting knife. “Alright then, keep your secrets.” 

 

He made to carefully maneuver around it, but the tortoise mirrored his movements and blocked his path. 

 

Gai flourished his hunting knife in a dramatically exasperated gesture. “What’s your problem? Why won’t you let me pass?” The tortoise remained silent; Gai scowled. “Is this another test? I’ve been tested enough! Give me a break.” 

 

The tortoise lowered its head and reared backward. 

 

Gai smirked and flipped his knife in the air, rain glancing off the blade, and caught it in a smooth show of bravado the tortoise most likely couldn’t appreciate. “That’s what I thought! Go back to whence you came, you weird creature.” 

 

The tortoise did not leave. In fact, it stepped closer, its head bobbing up and down. 

 

Gai sighed. “Now this is just ridiculous.” He dug his heels into the mud and readied his knife. “I do not wish to harm you!” 

 

But the tortoise wished to harm Gai. It dashed forward with an unbelievable amount of speed and crashed into Gai’s legs. Gai fell onto his back with a grunt, the wind knocked out of his lungs. He rolled aside before the tortoise’s massive foot crushed his skull and popped onto his feet. 

 

Gai kicked at the tortoise desperately, then slashed with his knife; the tortoise evaded both of these attacks and knocked Gai down again. Gai righted himself only to fall once more, slipping in a puddle of mud. 

 

The tortoise smashed his arm before he could move. Gai’s mouth snapped open in a roar of pain. His hand opened reflexively, releasing the knife. Beads of sweat joined the rain trickling down his face as he wrestled his injured arm to his heaving chest. Free from the tortoise’s clutch, Gai snatched his knife with his free hand. He shoved the handle between his teeth and reached for a vine, pulling himself up into an unsteady stance. 

 

The tortoise came at him again. Gai grasped the branch above the vine and hauled himself off the ground easy as any other one-handed pull up he practiced back in Konoha. 

 

The tortoise careened under his dangling feet and crashed into the tree trunk. It shook its head and whirled, eyes narrowed in a white glare as its nostrils flared with rage. But this time, Gai was ready for its next approach. 

 

Using the branch as an anchor, he swung a kick aided by the momentum of his entire body. His toes crunched audibly upon impact with the tortoise’s shell; Gai bit into the knife’s handle as his foot exploded in pain. 

 

The tortoise sailed through the air and landed on its back, underbelly exposed. Gai dropped from the tree and slunk forward, dragging his broken foot behind him. He retrieved his knife from his mouth and watched the tortoise kick feebly at nothing. 

 

“You shouldn’t have tested me,” Gai declared. He raised the knife above his head, then brought it down in a righteous thrust. The mastercrafted blade had been a gift to himself, purchased with the earnings from his first jounin mission. Empowered by Gai’s brute strength, it pierced through the underside of the tortoise’s shell.

 

Breathing heavily, Gai leaned back against one of the countless trees, all of his weight supported on his undamaged foot, his broken arm still cradled to his chest. His eyes widened as the dead - perhaps double-dead? - tortoise dissolved in a plume of black smoke which the rain quickly suffused. 

 

Gai thunked his head into the tree trunk behind him. He squinted at the canopy, trying to make sense of the ever-darkening sky, but only got water in his eyes. He scrubbed his face with the back of his hand and shook himself to alertness. There was no time for fatigue, not as dusk encroached. Gai did not fancy huddling under a bunch of twigs, unable to sleep through the night - however long it may be. 

 

The storm rumbled menacingly, reminding Gai of its presence with another torrent of rain. Because why wouldn’t it? The entire world reproached him, mortal, spirit, or otherwise; Gai really shouldn’t have expected anything else. 

 

He pushed off the tree with an agitated huff. He didn’t bother with another leaf umbrella, seeing as he was already drenched and only had one hand available to him which he needed to carry his knife. 

 

He lumbered deeper into the forest, again without any sense of direction. The storm drowned any noise the river sounded but Gai didn’t care. All he wanted to find was a dry place to lay his head. He’d probably need to splint his arm somehow - any attempt at moving it resulted in a hot flash of nauseating vertigo. His equally broken foot flared in pain with every step as he slogged through the mud.

 

If that tortoise was just some kind of extraneous blip in his initiation Gai didn’t want to know what else officially awaited him. He’d need to open his Gates if things got any worse. Which would usually be fine - so long as he had the means to recuperate, a trusted companion at his back to cover him once his burst of power died out to be replaced by excruciating pain. But Gai had neither of those luxuries here. 

 

He stabbed his knife into the ground and sunk to his knees for a moment’s respite. He just needed a quick minute to rest, he bargained with himself; just a second to lay face down in the mud and let the rain pummel his back. If he were anywhere else, he’d never show his vulnerability in such a way. But he was completely alone with no one to witness his suffering. He wasn’t in Konoha. He wasn’t on a mission. He wasn’t even in the mortal plane. So Gai allowed himself the one luxury he had and gave in to his mortal misery.

 

He surrendered. He let his body fall limp. Angry tears leaked from his eyes. The cold mud squelched disgustingly as his shoulders hitched in quiet sobs. Gai wasn’t crying because he broke his arm or his foot. He wasn’t crying because it was raining. 

 

He was crying because he was mad, and he was mad because he wanted to give up. He’d tried his best, but all of his effort boded nothing but more challenges. He proved his worth to the village and Kakashi, but was rejected from the ANBU. He was sought out by Ningame for reasons he still didn’t understand, who promised him he was destined to become the next tortoise sage, and yet the entire time Gai felt as if that fabled destiny was trying to denounce his hard work - like always, as it was with everything Gai set out to accomplish. 

 

He made his own destiny, he knew, but it was getting old at this point. Especially when destiny worked in everyone else’s favor besides his own. How many times had he privately scorned Kakashi - or any of his other comrades, for that matter, and their apparent ease in climbing the ranks? If climbing the ranks was akin to climbing a ladder, then Gai had done so lacking every other rung. 

 

Normally, Gai would call himself childish and move on from such dismal musings, but he didn’t have the energy to control himself now. If Kakashi, the great ANBU captain, could have childish outbursts, so too could Gai. 

 

Ignoring the protestations from his injured extremities, Gai rolled onto his back and let the rain wash the mud and tears off of his face as his conniption calmed down to a morose numbness that was just as uncharacteristic. Gai never took anything lying down - he laughed in the face of adversity and weaponized his body and mind against tribulation. But not now. Now, Gai was literally lying down, ravaged by a decade’s worth of pent up frustrations.

 

He felt empty, but more than that he was simply tired. He let his eyes fall shut and listened to the sound of the rain pattering the forest vegetation. It’d be soothing if the whole place wasn’t trying to kill him. Briefly, Gai’s thoughts drifted to his father, but that was too depressing even in his current state. 

 

He laid in the mud for what felt like hours but couldn’t have been longer than thirty minutes, and was only motivated to move when something blocked him from the rain. 

 

Gai opened his eyes and found Ningame - the real Ningame - staring down at him. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ningame talks some sense into gai. 
> 
> starting classes again soon. this might be the last update for a week or two. thanks for sticking with me. 
> 
> the shadow tortoise thing and the pond in this chapter is inspired by the chinese legend of Xuanwu, who purged his sins in a lake. his subconscious turned into an evil black tortoise which he had to defeat. the concept will be visited again in this story.

“AH!” 

 

Startled, Gai jolted upward - and his forehead connected with the underside of Ningame’s tough chin.  Forgetting that his arm was broken, he wrenched his elbow out to support himself, but whimpered in pain before collapsing into the mud once more. 

 

Ningame snorted above him. “What are you crying for?” 

 

“Nothing!” Gai cradled his arm to his chest, tear tracks still visible on his face. Too embarrassed to be thankful for Ningame’s arrival, his pout twisted into a sneer. “What are  _ you  _ sneaking up on me for?” 

 

“You’re a wreck,” Ningame observed unkindly. 

 

Gai huffed. He looked past Ningame’s head and affixed his glare on the dark sky. “I thought you weren’t supposed to help.” 

 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures and whatnot.” 

 

“I could’ve used your assistance earlier,” Gai said. 

 

“Oh, yeah, I heard. I liked that little poem of yours, by the way.”

 

Gai dismissed his latter remark. “Why didn’t you show yourself before? I knew you were there.”

 

“You didn’t need my help, then,” Ningame explained. “Not like right now.” 

 

Gai’s eyes flitted back toward the tortoise. “I want to go home,” he announced. He was exhausted, starving, drenched in rain, and had several broken bones. His voice took on a pleading tone. “Please, Ningame.” 

 

“And what good would that do you?” Ningame asked. “To pop up after disappearing with nothing to show for your absence?” 

 

“I…” Gai stopped, unable to come up with an answer. He briefly considered returning to the mortal realm without going to Konoha, but the thought left as quick as it came. For all his troubles, Gai still wouldn’t betray the Leaf.

 

“Exactly,” Ningame said. He lifted his head, so that the rain fell on Gai’s face unobstructed. “Come on, kid.” 

 

Gai tracked him upside down. “I can barely walk.” 

 

“I’ll carry you,” Ningame offered. 

 

Lacking any other options, Gai pulled himself atop Ningame’s shell. They embarked wordlessly, the forest silent and still save for the unceasing rain. Splayed on his back, Gai jostled with each of the tortoise’s steps. 

 

“Ningame,” he said.

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Did you see that...strange tortoise?” 

 

“Sure did.” 

 

“What was it?” 

 

Ningame sighed. “You don’t want to know.”

 

Gai twisted his neck to send a frown in Ningame’s direction, though all he could see was the back of the tortoise’s head. “That thing broke my arm and foot. I think have a right to know.” 

 

Ningame continued walking without reply. A frown still plastered on his face, Gai settled as comfortably as he could and waited for an answer. 

 

Rain drained through the canopy, thinning with each successive layer until it pattered Gai, whose form shielded Ningame. Gai listened to the sound of the rain hitting the trees and the mud squishing under Ningame’s large feet, his arm and leg convulsing with intermittent flashes of pain. 

 

Eventually, Ningame gathered his thoughts. “Back in the old days we had a lot of potential sages. Not all of them succeeded. Some of them got lost in the forest, starved, and died. Their spirits drifted, untethered. Once we were cut off from the natural world, those spirits were corrupted. That  _ thing _ you encountered, well…” 

 

With great difficulty, Gai sat up. Braced on his uninjured arm, he stared at the passing forestry and struggled to digest Ningame’s words. “You’re telling me that I - that I  _ killed _ a man?” he asked after a moment.

 

“That man was man no longer,” Ningame said, his pace unfaltering. 

 

“But technically - “ 

 

“Technically nothing,” Ningame interrupted. He sent Gai a narrow side-glance. “Don’t feel bad about it. Whatever vestiges of humanity they retained are gone now.” 

 

Gai recalled the wraith’s eerie, blank eyes, and shivered. “Still,” he said. “It is the principle of the matter.” 

 

“You’re too sentimental.” 

 

“Is there a way to reverse it?” Gai asked. 

 

“No,” Ningame said. “The tortoise sages don’t use senjutsu. There isn’t a transference of power or anything like that. It’s simply a connection, through which energy flows. You cannot channel it, for your needs or ours. Your discipleship is the only requisite to becoming a sage, and the only gift bestowed upon you will be the fruits of your labor.” 

 

He turned back around. Gai thought that was the end of it, until Ningame spoke again. 

 

“I don’t know what will happen when our bridge with the natural world is reinstated. The spirits could be set free, or they could be eradicated.” 

 

“That’s not very reassuring,” Gai said. 

 

“Most things aren’t,” Ningame replied. “Anyway…” He passed under a group of large leaves; Gai had to duck so as to not get hit in the face. Ningame abruptly stopped walking once they emerged, and Gai nearly fell off of his shell. “We’re here.” 

 

A small pond, deep and crystalline, laid before them, its surface bright despite the dark night. Ningame stood at its edge and nodded for Gai to climb down. Gently, Gai lowered to the ground and looked over the pond’s edge. His wavering, haggard reflection stared back at him, haloed by the forest canopy. 

 

Ningame said nothing, but Gai was struck with an acute instinct to enter the water. His reflection disappeared as he climbed into the pond, careful of his arm and leg. The rocky sand sloped under his knees. He paddled until he was submerged from the shoulder down, balanced on one foot, in the center of the pool. Sparkling concentric circles rippled outward long after they should have stilled. 

 

Gai looked to Ningame - unafraid, but curious. “What is happening?” 

 

“Go under,” Ningame advised. 

 

Gai inhaled and dunked his head below the surface. His hair unfurled from his cranium and his body turned weightless. He expelled the remaining oxygen from his lungs. Bubbles of air floated upward as he sank to the pond’s floor. 

 

The water was pure and translucent. Gai could see his hands clearly when he held them out. His lips parted in shock at the sight. 

 

The festering wounds on his palms were gone. He lifted his shirt collar and found that his chest wound had vanished as well. He’d regained full movement of his broken arm, and his leg did not buckle when he carefully set his damaged foot down.  

 

Rejuvenated, Gai pushed off of the sand and broke through the surface. 

 

Ningame smirked. “How do you feel?” 

 

“I’m - I’m fine,” Gai gasped, effortlessly treading the water. “What - how - “ 

 

“Do it again,” Ningame ordered. “Don’t come up unless I say.” 

 

Not wanting to question the pond’s mysterious properties, Gai dived yet again. He wondered if the pond could detoxify his mind, if he’d be imbued with mental clarity along with physical reparations. But nothing happened and Ningame did not beckon him. He sat patiently even as his lungs burned, and only resurfaced when the asphyxiation became unbearable. 

 

Chest heaving, he waited for Ningame to explain what was going on. 

 

“Again,” was all Ningame said. 

 

Gai scowled. “What is the meaning of this? I’ve healed - what else is there?” 

 

“Go again,” Ningame said. 

 

Gai rolled his eyes but obeyed the command. Every time he resurfaced Ningame simply told him to go back underwater and he obliged with attitude. Only until he was too exhausted to challenge Ningame’s motives did the tortoise give him an explanation. 

 

“You’re strong-willed and honorable, Gai,” Ningame said. “But you are too impulsive, too quick to act. The tortoise defends. The tortoise waits. The tortoise, at times, retreats. And so too shall the sage.”

 

“I don’t see how suffocating myself relates to any of that,” Gai snapped. He swam to the pond’s edge and dropped to his chest, breathing heavily. 

 

“You need broken down,” Ningame said. 

 

Gai looked up at him. “I already am.” 

 

“Not enough, it seems. What were you crying about earliert?” Ningame asked.

 

Gai gave him the same reply: “Nothing.” 

 

“Was it because you stubbed your toe?” Ningame needled, sneering. “Are you homesick? Are you tired?” 

 

Gai grit his teeth, and said something he’d never believed before now: “This is too hard.” 

 

Ningame scoffed. “Life’s hard, kid.”

 

“I know that. But I can’t - I can’t become a sage. Not like you think I can.” Gai remembered what the Sandaime had told him upon his rejection from the ANBU, and added bitterly, “I’m not cut out for it.”

 

“Do you just pretend to listen to me?” Ningame asked. “Has that ridiculous hair impeded your hearing? What did I tell you before I pushed you off of the cliff?” 

 

Gai racked his brain. “That...you’d meet me at a lake.” 

 

Ningame gasped with false surprise. “And here I am!” His expression flattened. “What else did I say? I told you that no one has made it as far as you have. No one has stepped foot in this realm since the last tortoise sage. No one has made it through the forest or arrived to this pond in a century. But you have. And yet still you’re acting like you’ve failed. Why is that?” 

 

Gai opened his mouth to reply, but Ningame barrelled on. 

 

“I’ll tell you why. It’s because whenever you enter any situation you want to  _ do _ something. There’s always a course of action. Until there isn’t. Then you’re lost. Then you turn into a blithering child.” 

 

“I’m not  _ blithering _ ,” Gai said. 

 

Ningame ignored his protest. “Take the situation with your rival. The Hatake. What’s going on there?” 

 

Gai turned away. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

 

“Okay, fine.” Ningame sat down. “We’ll wait. I’m a tortoise, Gai. If you think you can out-wait a tortoise, you’re crazy.” 

 

Gai huffed; Ningame had a point. He took the bait. “Why are you concerned about my rival?”

 

“You were cursing him up and down outside of Konoha,” Ningame said. “Calling his name in your sleep. Something happened.” 

 

“Nothing happened,” Gai said. His glare at the surrounding trees darkened. “My rival is enlisted in a harrowing line of work. I sought to follow him but my request was rejected. He will not speak to me. I cannot join him.”

 

“So you ran away,” Ningame deduced. 

 

Gai looked back at the tortoise. “If you want to put it like that, yes,” he unwillingly admitted.  

 

“Why?” 

 

“I failed him,” Gai said. 

 

“Doesn’t sound like it to me.” 

 

You don’t know my rival. He requires…special care. I should have done more.”

 

Ningame shrugged. “You did everything you could.” 

 

“There is always another option,” Gai objected. 

 

“No, Gai, there is not. And that’s something you must learn to accept.” 

 

“What about you?” Gai demanded. He peeled off of the ground and sat so that he loomed over Ningame. “What if I went home? I am  _ your _ last option, am I not?” 

 

“I would accept your decision,” Ningame said, unfazed by Gai’s height, “though I know that isn’t what you want.”

 

Gai lowered his gaze. “I… I don’t know what I want anymore.” 

 

“You want to tackle every problem you encounter without thinking of a solution beforehand, if a solution is even possible.”

 

“I suppose that is correct,” Gai acquiesced. 

 

“Let me explain this in a way you’ll understand,” Ningame said. “It is honorable to want to protect your comrades. But carelessly jumping into a mode of attack is just senseless violence. Especially when you are unprepared to lose.” He switched parables, continuing, “It is easy to put up a thoughtless fight. It is difficult to thoughtfully retreat.” 

 

Ningame retracted his limbs into his shell to illustrate his point. 

 

“Look at me,” he said, oddly muffled. “Here, I am safe. Here, I can wait things out. Here, I will gauge a problem, and decide if it is worth pursuing. If not, I will stay here until the problem subsides.” 

 

“But what if the problem doesn’t go away?” Gai asked. “What if it persists, and you’re just wasting time?”

 

“Time well-rationed is never wasted,” Ningame said. 

 

Gai was unpersuaded. “But - “ 

 

“But this, but that all you want - but _ I  _ don’t care.” Ningame poked his head out and leveled Gai with a sagely stare. “If you think this is wasted time, fine. I’d rather waste time than energy. Nothing lasts forever. Whatever troubles you face will pass, if not by your doing, than on their own. Sometimes, the only option is to abandon all options, and do nothing.” 

 

“That’s stupid,” Gai said. 

 

“That is life,” Ningame corrected. He rose to his feet. “I’m done talking in circles.” 

 

Before he knew it, Gai had a hand on Ningame’s shell. “You’re not leaving me, are you?” 

 

Ningame glanced at his hand, faintly amused. “No, Gai. I am going to teach you.”

 

“Oh.” Gai let his hand fall. “Teach me what?” 

 

“I’ll tell you in the morning.” Ningame turned away and started clawing at the wet earth - burrowing, Gai realized. “You need to sleep.” 

 

Gai ruminated as the tortoise worked. Occasional clods of mud jolted him from his thoughts, but he brushed them off apathetically. 

 

Ningame crawled out of ground once he was finished. “A little muddy, but it’s better than sleeping in the rain.” 

 

Gai paused before he started crawling into the hole. “Thank you.”

 

Ningame scoffed. “Go to bed.”

 

Gai traveled deeper into the burrow and curled on his side. He fell asleep quickly, exhausted in body and mind, too tired to dream.    
  
  



End file.
